Torture
by N-to the-O-to the-A
Summary: Some times you can stand being betrayed, forgotten, alone. So he went after the one person he trusted and made his life a living hell... Thiefshipping... sorta and one sided Tender.


Torture

Red eyes followed the tanned boy down the deserted road, he'd been watching the younger male for a while now and grinned at his opportunity to finally capture the boy he'd been following for too long. Shifting through the shadows, he moved closer to the Egyptian fantasizing over what he would do to the younger male once he got his hands on him.

Looking closely, the blonde's eyes were clouded over lightly like he was dreaming. The white earphones in his ears made the boy so deliciously vulnerable to the male trailing him.

The blond boys name was Marik Ishtar and the other had been following him for several months now, waiting to strike. Of course if Marik saw him now he'd know instantly who it was, having been working with him for weeks before their paths separated.

He growled at the thought, how the blond had betrayed him and left him for dead. His hand itched for the switchblade in his pocket, he snarled, drawing his hand away. No, he didn't want to hurt Marik... not yet.

Instead his fingers curled around the cloth in his hand that carried a small amount of drugged liquid, enough to knock out someone if held to his or her face. He grinned, good old cholochrome.

Now, he thought, moving like lightning as he shot from his place in the dark. Capturing Mariks hands to his chest with one arm and the other darting out to press the cloth to the boy's mouth and nose.

Marik made a muffled noise, jerking weakly against the man holding him before he collapsed into his arms. All he managed to see was a faint wisp of white amongst the dark sky above.

The white haired male purred gently, watching Mariks face for any signs that he would wake up. None, good time to get to work...

xxx

Marik groaned, when he shifted a sharp pain flared through his shoulders. He felt so groggy that it took too much effort for his liking to move. Wincing again when he moved, his eyes slowly opened to see nothing but black.

"W-what?" He stuttered out weakly, blinking and realising his lashes were brushing against material. "Ah... H-help! Someone? Is anyone there?"

He knew his voice wasn't strong enough right now, but what else could you do but try when you couldn't even see where you were?

Jerking his arms he cried out at the pain in his shoulders, he was half laying on the ground with his arms tied above his head by the way he could feel his position.

"Kidnapped?" He wondered out loud to himself. "Hello? Is anyone the-"

He stopped, hearing a loud clicking sound and creaking of a door opening.

"Hey! Who are you? Help me! Please!"

"Oh, I can't do that," He voice sounded dark and amused. How come it sounded familiar? "You see I brought you here, Marik."

"You? Why?" Marik shivered. The others voice sounded... it was like there was no room to resist it, to fight it, like you can only obey it because that's what it wanted.

"Why? Because I want you, Marik," He chuckled.

Mariks mouth went dry at those words, somehow it dried even more at the cold fingers brushing against his cheek. "You... you're insane..."

"So?"

Flinching away from the coldness of the other. Did he not even want to disagree about being insane? Or had the other always though he was?

"Please let me go... I... I will do anything," Marik shuddered, he wanted to cry, to curl up in a corner and wake up in the park like he'd slept there after a night of running from his father in his dreams. "Tell me you're a dream," he let slip.

"I'm not, Marik," The other chuckled. "No matter how much you may wish it." He kneeled down and peeled away the blindfold. "See, you know me."

Marik blinked against the dull lighting, his eyes widening in horror at the sight before him. "B-but you're dead... I saw you!"

"Remember what you told the Pharaoh?" He purred leaning closer. "That ALL the souls your other half had sent to the shadow realm would return... that includes me."

Mariks eyes slid over the others oh so familiar form. The body belonging to the young innocent British boy, pale skin, long snow white hair but the challenging blood red eyes were the only thing that belonged to the spirit of the Millennium Ring. One word slipped from his mouth, one name. "Bakura..."

"Good so you remember me, the one you left behind to become the Pharaohs bitch," Bakuras eyed narrowed and darkened. "How's that worked out for you so far, Marik. Do they show you trust? Can you see it at all it their eyes? Like I did for you..."

Marik knew he'd hurt the other, but he did it because it was who he was. He accepted that he was a tomb keeper and that's why he had to leave the other to his own revenge. Mariku had had too much power over him and it wasn't until he'd been rid of the darker personality that he'd seen what had really happened.

The Pharaoh hadn't killed his father, it was Mariku.

Mariks mouth began to open to speak but an ice-cold hand slapped over his mouth, silencing him. "No, Shh, Marik," Bakura whispered, leaning until his face was inches from the tanned ones face. "You always were much more beautiful and tolerable when you didn't open your stupid mouth."

His face twisted into a sharp toothy grin, an idea forming in his head. Yes, Marik shouldn't ever open his mouth ever again. Pulling back he turned to the dirtied, plain looking room, an old abandoned morgue. Moving to a shelf, he rummaged through a drawer before finding what he needed.

"So much better when you didn't speak," He laughed, pulling out the cloth in his pocket again. He didn't hold it over Mariks face; instead he waved it by to make the Egyptian a bit dizzy and weaker. He threw it to the other side of the room, favouring the needle and thread in his hands, he placed enough into the needle and cupped Mariks face with his free hand.

"Let's see if this will improve you," He chuckled; looking into Mariks glazed over eyes and confused expression. He moved forward, pushing the needle into the corner of the blond's lips until it came through the other side and threads it through the top lip as well. Marik whimpered weakly, the sharp pains in his mouth made his body shake but he couldn't move, he had no energy to do so.

Bakuras smile widened as he threads the boy's mouth, half was done already and he purred at the young boy, rubbing his thumb over Mariks tanned cheek. "Almost done," He sang softly.

Done, he thought. He'd improved Marik, he'd never speak or leave him again, and the boy belonged to Bakura now. "You're mine."

Smiling at his work, Bakura leaned down and pressed his lips against the sewed mouth. The drug should be working off soon and he really couldn't wait for the others reaction at his handy work.

"Come now, Marik," He whispered against the warm cheek. "Wake up, I want to see your eyes when you find what I've done for you. You'll be perfect now, just you wait."

The let out a soft chuckle, gazing into the clearing eyes. Smirking darkly, he leaned back letting his hands rest on the boy's chest that started to rise and fall quickly.

"Mmm, welcome back," He snickered.

Mariks thoughts cleared, the fog that was clouding his mind started to disappear instead he gazed up at Bakura, the dark insane spirit smiling down at him with this sickening and cold presents. He flinched, pain flaring in his shoulders again from the bonds on his arms. Crying out loudly only to find it muffled when his mouth wouldn't open, his eyes widening and his heart racing as he ran his tongue against the string in his lips.

Bakura laughed and watched Marik trash and scream mutely, pushing him down and sliding over to sit on his lap. "Sh-sh-sh! Shush, Marik. It's okay," Bakura leaned forwards again; planting another kiss on the boy's mouth; his way of thinking it was comforting. "It's okay, you're fine."

Marik couldn't believe this, the other really had done this to him, he really was going to keep him here and have his way with him. He started at the other in terror, tears of fear forming in his eyes as they slowly leaked down his cheeks and down his neck. It was a dream, he wanted so badly for someone to tell him he was dreaming, Ishizu or Odion would wake him shaking his shoulders.

Bakura tilted his head curiously, smirking at the others tears. "What's wrong, Marik?" He cooed, bending over to lick the others cheek, tasting the salty liquid on the hot cheek. He loved the others weakness, the fear, the tears oh definitely the tears. Out of all the reactions from his prey he loved the tears, from strangers, his host and Marik. It made his blood boil and he wanted something more from the other, but what? He didn't know, what would he want other than to have the boy by his side for forever? Marik was his...

Marik on the other hand was crying silently, hating the spirit and his dominance over him. He hated anyone who would have any sort of power over him, for too long he lived with his father even if it was only ten years. He wanted to scream at the other, if he wasn't tied up right now he was sure he would beat the shit out of the other, kill him even.

Right now he did the best thing he could, launching his foot out he slammed it into Bakuras gut sending him reeling back.

He thought it was the best thing at least. Bakura coughed violently for a minute or two, before glaring murderously at the blond. Panting, he stood up and stomped down on the foot that had kicked him, laughing at the satisfying crack as the blonds ankle slapped.

Marik blinked, shocked for a moment before the pain spread through his leg feeling like his foot was being torn off with the help of a butter knife. His screams and cries muffled behind closed lips, it hurt so much that he didn't know what to do other than to scream and cry. What could he do in this situation anyway?

Bakura let a small smile tug on his lips at the Mariks pain, leaning down he gave him a tender kiss, pulling away briefly. "Shh, Marik. Don't fight me it only courses pain."

Marik sobbed, his head turning away from Bakura and rest against his arm. How could he come to this? Being a feared criminal to... this, a spirits bitch...

He felt the pale man's hands brushing away the strands of hair in his face and tilt his head back to face him. Marik screwed his eyes shut, not wanting to see the other and flinched away at the lips on his forehead. Whimpering, he stilled he was hopeless, powerless and downright pathetic.

What would have happened had he stayed with the spirit and continued to help him in his revenge?

Would he be in this situation right now?

xxx

A third member was watching all of this, shivering as he held down his silent sobs. It was his body hurting the Ishtar, his body that was taken over by an evil insane spirit.

How could he not be strong enough to control this? He was hurting the boy that had become one of them. He was a friend with the Pharaoh therefore a friend of his.

"M-Marik..."

xxx

Marik stared at the opposite wall of the room, his vision blurred by the tears that refused to stop. Bakura had left him there for three days, not coming back to feed him or even check that he was still alive.

His lips hadn't gotten infected because the silverette had just left him there like that. But he was feeling slightly dizzy from lack of food or water, wishing that somehow he could eat something.

As if on cue to his wishes, Bakura opened the door and walked into the room holding two take-away cups in his hands. Eyeing the younger male, he crossed the room and sat down in front of Marik.

"Good Morning," He greeted, reaching into his back pocket to reveal his flick blade. Smirking when Marik cringed away from the metal object, he 'Tsk'ed and leaned over the blond cutting one string at the corner of his mouth, leaving the Egyptian dumbfounded. "What? I suppose I need to get food into you somehow. I can't let you die... yet. So I may as well remember to feed you while I'm thinking of food."

He brandished the strawed cup in his hand and grinned slightly, pushing the straw towards Mariks lips. "It's a fruit milkshake by the way."

He pushed the straw between Mariks lips and sipped at his own drink, holding the second in place for Marik to drink. Marik glared at the other and sucked, feeling awkward because it was from the side. Surprised that it actually tasted nice, a mixture or berries and what else, he couldn't saver the taste just wanting to get something into his stomach so he skulled it down.

Bakura never took his eyes away, the smirk not growing or falling, his expression frozen on a mild amusement. He slowly sipped at his own, pausing enough to form an idea, he had been terribly bored lately, so why not have some fun now?

"Hey Marik? Want to have a chance to win back the use of your mouth?" He grinned sinisterly.

Marik stopped drinking, not believing his ears... had Bakura seriously said that? Frowning, Marik mumbled a 'you're not serious, are you?' through closer lips and between sips.

"I am," Bakura chuckled. "Thought it's gonna be a game."

Marik rolled his eyes, of course. He knew there had to be a catch to it, the spirit wouldn't make it easy either, thought... if Bakura had lost so many times perhaps the Egyptian had a chance.

Bakura eyed the boy, a small smirk creeping on his face... bingo, he had Marik now.

"Well? Are you in?" He purred, reaching for his deck.

Marik paused for a moment before nodding, jerking his hands above his head.

Bakura laughed and leaned over him, cutting into the ropes around Mariks wrists, he untied one of them and handed Marik his deck. The blond frowned and wondered why Bakura had taken his deck to begin with, but took it back.

It wasn't the one he'd used during Battle City, after the incident with his other personality he'd made a new deck. He'd gone and invested in spellcasters, his cards mainly the spellcasters that needed counters.

He watched Bakura shuffle his deck before beginning the sad assed attempt on his, drawing five cards.

"Since it's you who is at bigger state here, I will let you go first," Bakura smirked, drawing his five cards.

Marik nodded and drew, liking his first hand and placing down one card in defence and two cards face down. Making a noise to indicate Bakuras turn.

Bakura chuckled, placing down a sangan equipped to Black Pendant and one card face down. "I attack your face down."

Marik flipped Old Vindictive Magician, destroying Bakuras sangan allowing him to summon something.

"Black Pendant, you take 500 damage and~" He leaned over and quickly cut his knife across Mariks cheek. Laughing at Mariks pained and shocked expression. "Oh right I forgot to explain the rules. I coarse damage I get to cut you, if you coarse damage I will cut one of the strings. I win I get to... do something with those cuts, if you win you get the use of your mouth back. My move."

He placed one card face down and ended.

Marik growled at his drawn card and flipped up Swords of Revealing Light. Bakuras face down was Morphing jar, the blond whined and did its effect as did Bakura.

Marik summoned Magicians Valkyria and two face downs, attacking Bakura.

The silverette smiled and cut one of the strings.

Bakura placed down The Dark Door, a face down and Headless Knight. "End."

Valkyria attacked a trap card was activated, summoning Dark Magician Girl. End.

Bakura cut another string and placed a face down defence. "End."

Marik summoned Maha Vailo and attacked with Dark Magician girl. End.

Bakura placed a face down. "End."

Marik frowned that the other hadn't summoned anything and narrowed his eyes, tributing the two MV's to summon Dark Magician, MSTing the Dark Door and attacking.

"Mirror Force," Bakura smirked calmly. He summoned a defence. "End."

Card trader was placed down. End.

By tributing for Puppet Master he payed 2000 life points to summon two friends. Attacking with 2650.

Marik used Magic Cylinder to send 1450 back at Bakura. The spirit chuckled darkly, cutting a string before Mariks face. "End."

Marik used Card Trader and placed a card down before attacking with Skilled Dark Magician. 1900, Bakura cut a string.

Bakura tributed to summon Ryu Kokki, using Raigeki and then attacked directly for 2400.

Marik paled and screamed as Bakura cut deeper than before into his cheek. "End."

Marik paled at his next card... shit. End.

Bakura laughed and attacked with 3850. "Game," He whispered against Mariks neck, to new cuts swiped into his cheeks. The blond tensed under him and let out a whimper, not even half his mouth had been opened. "I... hear that vinegar and salt can be quiet nasty when they get into an open wound," Bakura smirked. "Isn't it convenient that I have some in one of the cabinets?"

Marik paled even more and turned to long at the spirit whose tongue was sweeping over one of his cuts, leaving behind a small tingling behind.

"Well, let's start."

XXX

The smaller white haired male sat curled up on the floor of the spirits soulroom, his head resting on his hands that were folded over his knees. He'd listened to the tombkeeper screaming in pain, the sounds getting past his sewed up lips.

His head snapped up at the sound of loud footsteps coming towards him. "What do you want?" he snarled at the older male.

"Good morning Hikari," Bakura smirked down at him, stopping right in front of him. "You look like you're in a good mood."

Ryou, the original owner of the shared body, glared up at the other, rising to his feet to challenge him. "What do you expect after what you're doing to him? And with my body no less!"

"Whatever, it's none of your business," Bakura waved his hand in disregard before folding them over his chest. "It's not like you can do anything, sweet little Host," He teased, his fingers dusting over the boys equally pale cheek.

Ryou flushed angrily and slapped the hand away. "Don't you touch me, you demon! I will get my body back and when I do, I swear I'll toss you into an abyss."

"And where did it get you the last time someone tossed me away? Nowhere, I'm still here," the spirit snapped. Ryou was the only one that Bakura really liked, not that like he didn't have feelings like that. No, he meant the boy would submit so easily that the spirit didn't have to raise a finger; it was beautiful to him, to have such a host. But now Ryou seemed to have grown a backbone...

Letting out a deep sigh, he didn't waste any time in snapping his hand out and smirking as it connected with Ryous cheek with a satisfying crack. The shorted male fell to the ground with a sharp cry, cradling his cheek.

"You seem to have found some courage, Host. But I think I should put you back in your place," Bakura growled, sinking down to straddle Ryous thin waist. "You belong to me."

Ryous eyes widened as the spirit sat down on his hips and the cold fingers thread into his hair, pulling his head back painfully. With a loud cry, Bakura took advantage of the open mouth and shoved his tongue into Ryous mouth, his sharp teeth scraping over the boys lips and causing them to bleed.

Ryous breath hitched at the assault and tried to turn his head away, only to feel a painful yank of his hair.

Bakura hisses, clawing his fingers up under Ryous shirt leaving behind angry red marks and nipped the boys neck harshly. He slowly started to rock his hips, rubbing against his host for the desired friction; oh he'll show Ryou his place all right...

He grabbed a hold of Ryous shirt and ripped it harshly, tearing the material off and tossing the shreds to the side. Ignoring the silverettes cries and protests, he leaned down bite deeply into the pale skin of the collar, braking the skin and swallowing a mouthful of blood.

Ryou jolted and whimpered loudly, his hands pushing weakly at Bakuras head and tugging his long white hair. "S-s-stop! B-Bakura, please!"

The spirit snarled and leaned back, observing the deep wound; his mark on the boy. Licking his lips, he pulled his own shirt over his head and started to unbutton Ryous jeans, jugging them down with his underwear and smirking.

Popping his pants open to let out his member, he stroked it a few times until it was hard.

Ryou shivered, his eyes widened as he watched Bakura. He couldn't believe that the other was going to do this to him... "Bakura, p-please don't!" He cried out weakly; he was in shock, he couldn't understand this.

"Shut up, Host!" Bakura snapped. "You're mind and I'm showing you that you do."

Ryous hands pushed harder against Bakuras shoulders, slowly regaining his strength. The spirit hissed and grabbed Ryous wrists, holding them over the boys head as the white floor formed over the boys wrists to pin them down.

"You can't do this!" Ryou cried, trashing against the bounds.

"I think you'll find I can," Bakura purred, leaning forward to lift Ryous legs over his shoulders. "I'm just proving a point that you're mind and I wouldn't let anyone else touch you, Yadunushi."

He suddenly thrust into the boy, crinkling his nose at the tight heat and pleasure on it. Groaning, he pulled out to the tip and thrust in harshly, grinning as Ryou screamed in pain, thrashing and clenching around him.

"Stop! Bakura, stop! It hurts!" Ryou screamed, tears trailing down his cheeks as he sobbed.

Bakuras laugh was cut off with a sharp intake of breath as he continued to drive into his host. He wondered if Marik would feel as good as Ryou? But then, that would go against what he'd just said about not letting anyone touch Ryou. He didn't love Ryou; no definitely not, but he wanted Ryou for his own.

"Ah," Bakura leaned over him, angling himself deeper into the silverette. A light sheet of sweat coating their skin as the spirit rocked faster into the sobbing boy.

"P-please... ah Bakura! S-s-top!" Ryou cried, turning his head away from Bakura, closing his eyes. He couldn't stand it; it was so painful emotionally and physically. His Yami, which had always said that he'd make sure no one would hurt him, was hurting him more than anyone could possibly.

Bakura licked over the wound that he'd left on Ryou, reaching down to stroke the boy's member, erect against his will. His stomach was twisting in bliss and he'd make sure that Ryou came before him to shame him. He could feel Ryou twitching around him and knew that the smaller male wouldn't last much longer. He smirked and licked his lips, leaning back to watch the pale one hungrily.

"Come for me, Host," He purred liquid smooth and hit the boy's prostate extra hard. "Come..."

Ryou shook his head violently and bit his lips, refusing to look at Bakura. "Please," He whimpered breathlessly. His body jerking as he let out a cry, he was close as well. With a pained scream, he released into Bakuras hand and sobbed harder as the other continued to pound into him.

Bakura moaned lowly as Ryou clamped down around him, his insides quivering and twitching as the boy came in his hand. He wouldn't finish yet, wanting to humiliate the boy further by thrusting slower.

He lifted his hand, bringing it to his face and licks the sticky liquid off his fingers. He gazed down at Ryou with bruning eyes as he tipped forward, releasing into the boy with a low groan of pleasure.

Ryous sobbed heavily between gasps and pants as the spirit above him suddenly pulled out and stood.

Bakura smirked down at Ryou, zipping his pants and replacing his shirt. "I hope that gets my point over to you, Host. Don't think you can fight against me..."

His voice started to echo as he began to fade away. "Because you belong to me..."

XXX


End file.
